


Earth Stands Peaceful

by Kisuru



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beating the Odds, Canon Compliant, F/F, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Moving On, Post-Canon, Recovery, Saving the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisuru/pseuds/Kisuru
Summary: After hundreds of time loops, Mami, Homura, and Madoka finally defeat Walpurgisnacht. Saving the lives of the two people Homura cares about is a dream come true.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampirePaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts).



Dark clouds hovered above the city in a myriad of color. At that moment, the world shattered into an explosion of dazzling light; a pyramid of rainbow light suffused across the expanse of the sky. An ethereal, colorful shower of light painted the gloomy, black canvas, a surreal imitation of meteors.  
  
Azure patches dotted the sea of gray. Chill winds breezed past those menacing clouds in scattered directions. Silken black hair blew in the rough gusts of wind, triumphant. Sparks of fire set the city ablaze here and there; smoke drifted in the air and clogged up the airspace with a vengeance.  
  
A droplet of blood pooled down from her forehead to her mouth. A cut oozes blood from her forehead, though she barely notices this, the scent of smoke and dust and the foul stench of death encroaching the area fully.  
  
But none of that mattered. The pain, the brilliant light engulfing it all.  
  
Nothing mattered. It did not The battle was over.  
  
The massive witch known as Walpurgisnacht was no more, nor did remnants of its body float above the Earth. No trace of it remained.  
  
In the very center of the clouds, a giant Grief Seed floated. It teeters towards the ground, unbalanced, power around it unstable. The silvery light around it is majestic but horrifying at once. Unlike the run-of-the-mill Grief Seed, it flashes at either vertical end in a whit, unyielding but thwarted.  
  
At times like this, atop the skyscraper looking down, even Homura felt as though she had the authority to question little things like this for herself.  
  
Sometimes, Homura had wondered what Walpurgisnacht’s story had been. What had caused her so much pain, so much misery to tear the world to shreds even as a monstrous witch? To consistently tatter the fabric of this world, and simply ruin Homura’s life and the people she loved?  
  
Abuse. Loneliness. Fear. Anguish. So many emotions fueled a magical’s girl’s sense of self. Homura, despite the knowledge, could not bring herself to feel pity for this faceless magical girl she had never really faced.  
  
But then, she supposed, she had been a formidable enemy. And despite all the agony she had endured through her time loops, one bow of the head in appreciation of her incredible and brutal strength would honor her memory.  
  
But yet… even more…  
  
Long ago, Homura had firmly squashed her remorse for stopping Walpurgisnacht. Defeating it had been a means to an end—Madoka’s safety and longevity. But today, she may as well have been stripped bare and burdens of such an unthinkable task banished from deep in her heart. It was an empty but worthwhile feeling, a bittersweetness no one could know. Having it finished after countless and countless attempts all dipped in bloodshed and misunderstandings and glorified suffering…  
  
Now, she could not even thank Madoka. Without Mami in the equation, or long before the battle, she would have never reached this pinnacle of bliss.  
  
The battle still hummed in Homura’s ears. Mami’s musket fires had been immaculate and on point to the designated areas on their enemy’s ever lissome body. The symphony of her own explosives rocketing off in a barrage had echoed alongside those bullets. The whizzes from Madoka’s arrows had struck true as each one had lacerated the same areas hit by Homura and Mami moments ago, keeping the battle damage high.  
  
It was a dream. Dazed, Homura barely noticed Madoka land next to her.  
  
Weary, Madoka smiled. Blood dripped down her leg from a cut on her thigh. Her outfit was stained with grim and blood. She could stand and walk, which was the greatest miracle of it all without a doubt.  
  
“Where’s Mami-san?” Frantically, Madoka brought the situation back to Homura. She glanced side to side in a slight panic, searching.  
  
Homura jumped up on a ledge and scouted out the area for herself.  
  
Homura had kept a special eye on Madoka this time around. She had followed all of Homura’s instructions and kept close proximity. But Mami… if they had lost Mami at this stage, Homura had no idea what she would do. Her objective had been keeping Madoka out of danger’s steely clutches… but Mami was a completely different case to her, a special person.  
  
Mami usually died before the rest of the girls. But if she managed to last until Walpurgisnacht, she usually had the highest probability of survival.  
  
At… at least, that was what she hoped. Until then, it had all been guaranteed to work out in the formula she had calculated numerous times.  
  
But to lose Mami would be…. Something worse than what she had imagined. For so many times, she knew Mami would always just _be_ there as a near instant alley whenever she restarted the timeline if she played her cards right and did not pick unnecessary fights with her.  
  
She had never made it this far before. And it truly, honestly, scared her.  
  
A cold stone dropped in Homura’s stomach. She clenched her fists.  
  
Madoka shielded her eyes. She gazed over the barren, battered landscape under skyscraper, the city’s modern architecture smashed into smithereens. She gasped. “She’s… alive! I see her. She’s bleeding, but...!”  
  
Madoka’s words drowned out, and Homura focused on the spot.  
  
Homura found her next. Lying against a signpost, Mami’s head fell against her chest, crooked but not a broken angle. But still— Blood stained her outfit and now mussed and tangled hair, gold curls in a frazzled mess on her face. Blood dripped down her front and surrounded her a puddle.  
  
And really, that was all the incentive Homura needed for her to act.  
  
Homura leapt off the building first and dived towards her. Madoka followed her example less gracefully, and the two joined Mami on the ground. Homura rushed over to her and knelt down at her side to examine her.  
  
Homura lifted up Mami’s arm. It came along with her like it should. Not broken. But still, she could have quell her heartbeat, the anxiety in her chest seized in a strange blossom of guilt. Madoka was wrong, she had died. Died, died, died— But then the soft breath from Mami’s nose skirted against her face the further she leaned in to check her vitals. Weak, though _there_. Mami breathed lightly, noncommittal and without verbal response.  
  
“It looks like a glass shard embedded itself in her side,” Madoka observed. She nodded at a gash on her Mami’s side where the blood spurted out. On a closer look, the spurts of blood would be manageable if Mami was attended to immediately. Madoka clasped Mami’s hand and raised to her cheek. Tears formed in her eyes. “Mami, I’m so sorry. I thought you were safe when I was watching you. You moved away from me. Why?”  
  
Mami’s house. Homura had thought she would never hear words sweeter than those. It would be a place to go away from the pain. Mami’s place had always been barred off from Homura because she would never actually partner up with Mami sometimes, and Mami would never allow her within the perimeters of her apartment if she had thought her hostile.  
  
Homura, admittedly, could not blame Mami for some of those thoughts.  
  
After the battle, Mami’s apartment would be where the fluttering pieces of battle would not disturb them. It would be white and gentle and warmth and everything void of darkness. It would be a loneliness that needed fulfillment. She, Mami, and Madoka could find peace in a little haven by themselves while the world stumbled. Homura pictured Mami’s spacious living room, too large for one person but open to as many friends as she possibly could invite over. Once upon a time, that main room in Mami’s apartment had been an oasis she had laughed in with the others. Bank then, she had drank tea and ate cake as they put their battle plans in formation and strategized their execution of how to corner and blast down witches.  
  
Indeed, Madoka had contracted. That was a fate doomed to her that Homura, in all the time loops, could never stop her from. Including here, she would have the same fate. Yet after the battle, she was breathing and in one piece and, above all, _alive_ after Walpurgisnacht’s defeat.  
  
And… and, Homura really had no right to complain.  
  
Her wish had been granted to her, after all.  
  
Except…  
  
Homura brushed the hair out of Mami’s face. Though nonchalant on the surface, a stab of emotion jolted her heart at Mami’s moue expression. Still, peace settled in her chest that she had never felt before, not even now that she had saved Madoka’s life in the thick of battle for the last time.  
  
Now, Mami would no longer have to fight a cruel fate, either.  


* * *

  
For safekeeping, Mami had entrusted her house key to the depths of her welcome mat. Hiding the blood stains on Mami’s clothing from prying eyes had been just as simple. No residents had returned from the evacuation centers to her apartment building. Homura sincerely doubts Mitakihara had posted an all clear notice, and she relishes the quietness of it all.  
  
Homura and Madoka attend to Mami’s wounds as well as their own nonetheless and covered the worst ones with disinfectant and bandages. Neither of them possess Sayaka’s healing powers, but their efforts would have to do, and Homura herself had plucked enough flying glass out of her skin in the past to recall how to work around the cuts fix them up. Homura had warned Madoka more cleaning was due in this case rather than a sloppy job. Madoka, exhausted from the whole ordeal, flashes her a reassuring smile and heeds Homura’s advice. Mami always went to all expense to make certain her underclassman were comfortable whenever they were injured and Homura and Madoka reciprocated that care.  
  
Homura believed that Mami would need to visit the ER; her side gash looked pretty deep still and Homura and Madoka could only do so much to stitch her skin back up. If the need arose, she would call an ambulance when the streets began to once again flood with anxious people. In the meantime, dragging Mami to the hospital would cause more hurt than good, and Homura honestly thought all the medical staff were in the shelters.  
  
Homura’s head hurt. Her heart hurt. Her eyes, ears, and face hurt.  
  
But her pride was intact, and a flare of happiness sparked to life within her.  
  
Bundled up in a warm blanket, Madoka lay cuddled up on Mami’s couch hours later. Homura and Madoka were both equally ready to collapse, but Mami still had not woken up yet after all their prodding and pinching.  
  
Homura wanted to see Mami and talk to her.  
  
Her chest swelled at the very thought. She licked her lips, throat dry.  
  
Oddly, Homura could not help but bask in the uncanniness of it all. Usually, this was the point in time she would never have reached without Mami or Madoka’s support. Now, it seemed so distant of her to have worried about Madoka contracting the entire time. Almost. Alive… all three of them.  
  
She would mourn Kyouko and Sayaka’s deaths, of course; she desperately wishes they could have made it through. But Sayaka’s transformation into Octavia was always a recipe for disaster for Kyouko. It was set in stone.  
  
Homura’s eyes latched onto Mami snuggled up into the futon. She had pulled it out of the closet and brought to the front room. Mami would like that. In a way, it was like a slumber party setup. No, more like a flimsy, ill-planned victory party that had never really hit the right groove.  
  
Homura sipped at the tea Madoka had prepared. It tasted blander than Mami’s brew, but Madoka’s gentleness managed to come through and relax her for the moment. She eyed the vanilla and chocolate glazed cake on the middle of the table—apparently, it had been stowed in Mami’s refrigerator for a while and Homura only kept it there out of habit.  
  
“You saved me, Tomoe-san,” Homura murmured. Strangely, the words tasted bittersweet, but she could not help but believe in them. It was liberating to tell her. She had never been able to tell Mami anything.  
  
Homura found herself scooting off her sitting mat closer to Mami. Gingerly, hand laid on her shoulder first. The tresses of Mami’s golden hair tickled her fingers. Though Mami’s hair was spilt out of their normally perfect drills still, those golden locks softly fell down her back like the sun’s halo. She lightly pulled strands away from Mami’s face and enjoyed her warm skin.  
  
“I did? Saved you from what?”  
  
Voice breaking, words croaked, Homura’s ears perked up at the sound. Blinking, she could feel herself immediately startle with uncharacteristic excitement. Her heart soared for a moment, her breath hitched. Mami smiled at her weakly; her eyes cracked open a little to peer around herself for where she was. A moment later, her eyes narrowed, and then she gazed at Homura fully. She rubbed her temples, groaning out of reflex.  
  
“We did it,” was all Homura says.  
  
What else was there to say? All she wanted to do was continue stroking her hair, but she suddenly felt too vulnerable. She could not convince herself to retract her hand from Mami’s hand. Mami did not complain.  
  
Mami was the radiant star of this place, transfixing in her muted smile.  
  
Homura offered her cup of tea, and Mami accepted it graciously, sitting up in her futon. She sipped at the tea while she recovered, throat obviously more parched than Homura’s even was. Her fingers delicate around the cup’s handle; Mami caressed the pink kitten on the front comtemplatively.  
  
Seeing her so gentle was a stark contrast to her hard grip on her musket.  
  
She was beauty in a way that was not imposing but tender. Her eyes while fighting, hard and cold like glaciers at night, had matched Mami to a fault.  
  
“We did… I’ve heard of a Walpurgisnacht before, but I never knew I would have enough help to beat one. I didn’t do that much at all,” Mami protested. She shook her head. Pallid in the nearby lamplight, she grimaced Mami reached for the bandages at her side and felt them through her night shirt. “I should be thanking you. You informed us the Walpurgisnacht was coming to Mitakihara. It’s never really known when they’ll come, you know. Many magical girls are caught off-guard, I hear. But we’re lucky we had you.”  
  
Warmth spread through the tips of Homura’s ears, but never her cheeks. She had trained herself not to blush, though she figures she Mami was praising her too much. Her hand follows Mami’s movements. She threads her fingers in her hair; Mami blushes and realizes what Homura is doing.  
  
“That’s true, that isn’t what I meant exactly.” Only encouraged that Mami did nothing to deflect it, Homura suddenly found her lap interesting. Old memories pour into her mind and stir up emotions. Mami had done much more for her. “You always teach me something new. I’m really grateful to you, more than you’ll ever know. I would have never made it through that battle if you hadn’t taught me how to fight like a magical girl.”  
  
Mami offers a puzzled look. She frowns, eyebrow furrowed, confused.  
  
Right, in this timeline, she had not taught her anything.  
  
“What I’m saying is, I watched you fight and picked up techniques from you,” Homura clarified somewhat modestly. Of course she had learned most everything herself, but Mami had always been the starting point.  
  
Practice had become perfect. She would not be perfect without her.  
  
“You were watching me, huh.” Memi seemed appeased with this. “I see.” She stared at the cup of tea as though it held all the world’s secrets. “You know, I was trying to pick up techniques from you. I thought you might know something I don’t know and it would help me protect Kaname-san.”  
  
Not her. Homura expected that. Madoka had joined her first in this timeline.  
  
“How so?” Homura asked, honestly curious. She flipped her hair back.  
  
Mami’s flush deepens either out of embarrassment or Homura’s intense gaze. “I was envious of you, Akemi-san. I saw how you protected Kaname-san so diligently, like you could predict her movements. I really wanted to live up to your example.” Her head lowered, and she licked her lips, remembering. “In fact, you were so in-tune protecting Kaname-san that you didn’t notice you were in danger. That’s why I protected you.”  
  
Surprised, Homura blinked. She had not expected to hear that.  
  
“You protected me?” Homura echoed.  
  
Mami nodded and bunched up her free hand in her blanket. “While you watched after Kaname-san, I jumped in the way of Walpurgisnacht’s reach. I got hit by a piece of metal or glass—“ Mami paused, as though she was thinking of the impact, wincing—“that you weren’t watching out for. I didn’t have time to yell at you about it, and I guess the shock knocked me out right away. I’m glad the two of you made it out safety without me there.”  
  
Mami’s expression sparkles. Genuine, happy despite the pain. Homura could feel herself lean closer. At first, she was aware why. Indeed, she had been too engrossed protecting Madoka to watch completely over Mami.  
  
She had almost sacrificed Mami. The thought of that stabs her in the gut. Homura closes her eyes. She bites the inside of her cheek, regretful.  
  
“Thank you,” Homura blurts out. And she meant it. She felt whole hearing someone say something like this besides Madoka. Someone had really watched her back while she had not known it, and she really almost felt like it made up for the years she had spent in those time loops.  
  
In a way, suffering alone had paid off if it meant that much.  
  
Mami clasped Homura’s hand. Her skin was clammy.  
  
“I mean, I’ve never had so many magical girls stay with me,” Mami said mildly. “And… I’ve said it already, but we really did it. And we’ve all survived. For us to win a battle like that... I think…” A shadow crossed Mami’s eyes. It was like liquid fire and the mist of spring at once, and Homura’s chest constricted at seeing it. Mami squeezed her hand. “You and Madoka will really not leave me for a long time to come, won’t you?”  
  
“Of course not,” Homura confessed automatically. She meant it, too. No matter how many petty squabbles she and Mami had gotten into over the time loops, Homura had never taken any offense. And she had nowhere else she wanted to be, especially at her own lonely apartment. “Did you become the hero of justice you wanted to be, after all this?”  
  
Mami thought about it for a moment. It is obvious Kyouko’s image flashes in her mind’s eye, but Homura does not comment on it. Mami shrugs.  
  
“Not really, no.” Mami finishes the tea in the cup and place the it down on the floor. “I didn’t find justice, but I think I found peace for not just myself but the three of us.” Mami briefly sets her sights on Madoka on the couch. Madoka mumbles in her sleep, and Mami giggles at her. “We saved everyone in those shelters and that’s all we could hope for. We spared their lives. But I did find something that I care a lot more about.”  
  
Before Homura reacts, the scent of cinnamon spice and green tea invades her senses. Lips brush against hers. Mami wraps an arm around her waist and squeezed her hand. Homura squeezes back instinctively, amazement and the pull of longing and adrenaline coursing through her veins.  
  
Mami pulls away. Her face is the color of a tomato, but she does not mention it out loud. “I think we can relax from now on.” Mami’s voice turns less somber, more cheerful. “We’ll have to clear our—.” Her eyes widen. “Wait, did we get a Grief Seed? Because that was a lot of power—?”  
  
Homura just points behind Mami. Mami follows her line of sight.  
  
The Grief Seed radiates dark energy. It floats above the small table in the corner so it won’t be in the way, or go anywhere. It was different than the normal Grief Seed: larger, spiked on both sides, and overwhelming like a gravity is trying to tug the both of them closer. Mami stares, jaw slack.  
  
Madoka and Homura had not known what to do with the Grief Seed. Bringing it home as a war trophy had been enough at the time.  
  
“That’s amazing,” Mami breathed. “I’ve never seen a Grief Seed like it.”  
  
Throat dry, Homura wills herself to speak. How could she follow up on all that and make herself seem cool, ordinary, like it was perfectly normal to kiss and not make a big deal out of it? Mami winked at her, and Homura instantly blushed twice as deep crimson as Mami, the stirring feelings all a jumble in her head. So much for hardening herself against emtions.  
  
“It really is,” Homura agreed. “I think it may cleanse all three of our Soul Gems for a while[1]. We may not have to fight for a long time, if ever again.”  
  
Homura’s heart beat faster. Mami could be happy. She had always been hypersensitive about Madoka’s happiness, but Mami deserved just as much, if not more, happiness that cancelled all the loneliness she had endured herself. Suffering would no longer be an option for them.  
  
“But I don’t think that would do,” Mami admits. She grinned at Homura cheekily then, tilts her head with conviction. “We have to keep this town safe, after all. I don’t think we can stop fighting witches as long as we don’t take Grief Seeds from magical girls that might need them, and there shouldn’t be too many more in this territory in the near future.”  
  
Homura did not know how to agree with words, so she just acts.  
  
Homura hugs Mami. She could barely contain herself, but she just simply hugs her like that, chin over her shoulder and face buried in her hair, too happy to know how to express it. From that point onward, Madoka, Mami, and Homura lead as blissful lives as humanly possible.  
  
No more heartache, no more time loops.  
  
Even if the fate of all magical girls would befall them one day, as Homura knew, they could still pick up the broken pieces and simply live together.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Grief Seeds purify a Soul Gem once per magical girl. But I thought Walpurgisnacht is an extraordinary witch. Its power would be immense even in Grief Seed form. So, I decided it could purify a bit at a time while the girls gradually whittle it down. That way, they would have some downtime when they don't want to hunt witches.


End file.
